


Pray To God This Breath Will Last

by Melodious329



Category: Angel: the Series RPF, CW Network RPF, Kane (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-06
Updated: 2011-10-06
Packaged: 2017-10-24 09:19:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/261696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melodious329/pseuds/Melodious329
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christian is in love with his best friend David who only thinks of him as a ‘friend with benefits’.  But one night, Christian goes over to David’s for a booty call to discover that David’s no longer human.  And David doesn’t want to leave Christian behind.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, Steve has been a vampire for a long time, but a vampire without a home amongst his own kind.  Inexplicably drawn to humans and yet outside them, he travels the world observing and occasionally visiting other vampire nests.  But when he visits a vampire nest in LA, he discovers a human being kept there that pulls him out of his objective role.</p>
<p>But is Steve willing to make himself a fugitive from other vampires to save a human?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pray To God This Breath Will Last

**Author's Note:**

> Written for vampirebigbang on Livejournal. Thanks to jesco123 for being my alpha reader and thanks to denig37 for the beautiful art!

[](http://s567.photobucket.com/albums/ss114/Melodious329/?action=view&current=Bannerbydenig37.png)

Christian can’t help looking at the text message on his phone one more time as he gets in the elevator at his best friend’s apartment building. Slipping the phone into the back pocket of his jeans, Christian’s hands go to his long dark hair, pushing it away from his face without tucking it behind his ears.

Angrily, he drops his hands and glares at his distorted reflection in the metal elevator doors. God forbid he fuckin’ show up to David’s place with his hair tucked behind his ears, he mocks himself. He’s ashamed that he’s basically primping himself, and for his best friend no less.

A best friend who still thinks that they’re just friends, that the sex doesn’t mean anything, that it’s just a ‘benefit’. But if that were the case Christian wouldn’t drop everything, leave parties or even his own bed just to come over for a hookup, just because David texted. They can’t even hang out together anymore without Christian hoping and wondering if David will ask him over that night or whether Christian will have to watch as David charms someone else.

He knows he should stop this, just stop responding to every text like a trained dog begging for affection. But Christian wants David too much to stop. Every time he tells himself that he’s going to find someone else, he ends up back in this elevator.

He shakes his head, trying not to touch his hair again when the ding of the elevator startles him. It’s David’s floor. Stepping out, he takes a deep breath and shakes his hair out of his face once again before moving determinedly toward David’s apartment.

Knocking first, Christian then tries the handle and finds the door open. It’s not unusual, not like David’s meeting him at the door at this point in their relationship. But it is strange that Christian walks inside the apartment to find it basically pitch black.

“David,” Christian calls out, confused.

He wonders if David is even here. Maybe David forgot that he even texted and went to find some other warm body. Maybe he passed out, wouldn’t be the first time. Christian starts groping along the wall trying to find the light switch.

Then a small light turns on the bedroom, probably just a lamp, and David walks out into the living room. David’s naked, and even though Christian can barely see, he’s riveted, his eyes straining to see every inch of tan skin as his breathing deepens.

David seems completely unconcerned with his own nakedness or Christian’s reaction to it. Walking further into the room, he pauses to turn on another lamp but bypasses the wall switch for the overhead light.

“Fuckin’ finally,” David sneers.

“Fuck you,” Christian responds, but there’s little heat in it since Christian is already moving forward, drawn like a moth to a flame, eager to touch.

David smirks, watching as Christian comes to him. Then strong hands are shoving Christian into the wall behind him and moving in.

Christian’s shoving back before he even thinks about it. This is familiar, this aggressive push and pull. They both know that Christian will be the one to submit, to spread his legs willingly no matter how David treats him. But he likes to pretend he still has a little pride.

“I’ll take off m’ own clothes,” Christian growls already reaching overhead to grab at the back of his shirt.

“Come on,” David complains, impatiently as Christian pulls the shirt forward and off, leaving his hair in disarray in his face.

Scowling, he runs both hands through his hair before bending to remove his belt, boots, and jeans. He tries not to hurry, not to look more desperate than he already does, but as soon as his pants hit the floor he’s stepping out of them and back into David’s space. His hands reach out to touch cool skin, trailing from the slight curve of David’s pecs down a flat stomach to rest in the hollow of the inside of David’s pelvic bone.

But when Christian dips his head, tongue already coming out in anticipation of tasting the skin over David’s collarbone, he’s abruptly stopped with a sharp pull on his long hair.

His immediate reaction is to cry out softly in surprised pain, but as Christian realizes his vulnerable position, his eyes narrow and he softly growls, tightening his grip on David’s hips. David’s not intimidated, though as he keeps his hold on dark hair and leans down, nuzzling Christian’s neck, breathing in, smelling him almost.

Unknowingly, Christian is holding his breath but he lets it out as he feels David’s other hand trailing down the curve of his spine. The touch becomes a lot firmer as it reaches Christian’s ass, hand cupping as a middle finger delves between his cheeks, pressing on the hidden entrance there.

David pulls Christian closer, curving forward over Christian’s body as another finger joins the first, pressing, pressing in…

“Ungh,” Christian grunts, hands maneuvering to push David’s body away even as Christian pulls his hips forward, trying to get away from the  
fingers. “Lube, fucker,” he growls.

He’s surprised when David growls back, his face still buried in Christian’s neck. “Fine,” David says, derisively.

Before he can say or do anything though, David’s dragging him, half by his hair and half by an arm around Christian’s waist. They’re in the bedroom faster than Christian would have believed and then he’s on his back on the bed and all he knows is that he didn’t get there under his own power.

David is still standing beside the bed, and he grabs each of Christian’s wrists, shoving them down into the mattress before climbing on, insinuating in between Christian’s thighs. Christian doesn’t fight as David stretches out over him, David’s greater weight trapping him. He’s only focused on the feel of David’s skin against his own. And then David starts rolling his hips, David’s hard cock pressing into his ball sac even as Christian rolls his own hips back, bringing his knees to his chest. David puts his hand down between them, positioning his cock to thrust through Christian’s ass crack.

“Hmmm, you like that,” David says lowly.

Even though Christian doesn’t answer, the deepening of his breath is an answer as his own cock rubs against David’s lower belly, the trail of wiry hairs there almost painful on his sensitized flesh. David drags Christian’s hands out to each side as Christian bites his lip to keep from moaning, not wanting to give in totally yet.

Once his arms are stretched out though, David lets go, climbing to one side of the bed. Christian stays where David left him, watching the other man in confusion, but then with a quick movement, Christian’s flipping over onto his stomach. Shocked, Christian clings to the mattress for a second. David’s big and strong, that’s part of what Christian likes about him, but Christian had no fucking idea that he could do that.

“Hey,” he says sharply, trying to push himself up from the bed.

But then the whole of David’s weight is holding him down with a hand in the center of his shoulderblades. Christian’s about to protest louder, when David’s other hand enters his line of sight, grabbing a bottle of lube and a condom off the night table.

Christian’s objections die in his chest and he settles on the bed. He gets it. David doesn’t need to bother with foreplay anymore. Christian’s not his partner. Christian’s just a guy to fuck who always comes running.

He feels like he might as well be a blow-up doll as David keeps him pinned while running slick fingers over his hole. At least he gets lube now. Then David shoves two fingers up his ass.

Christian isn’t relaxed enough for that and he grunts and tries to jerk away before he can control the impulse. But David doesn’t let him up. Biting his lip and clenching his hands in the bed’s sheets, Christian forces himself to lie still, but he’s still tense.

But David knows just how to play him. David knows just where to press, just how hard Christian likes it. The fingers are hard and unrelenting, pressing on Christian’s prostate before letting up momentarily to scissor his fingers and open Christian more.

Christian’s squirming before he knows it, before he wants to, any pretense of being unaffected, as unaffected as David seems flying out the window. He’s groaning, pressing his ass back onto David’s hand desperately, bucking against the weight that’s crushing his face into the pillow, making it harder and harder to breathe.

“Fuck,” David purrs. “Such a slut for me. My slut.”

Christian doesn’t have breath to comment on David’s freaky attempt at dirty talk, and then David removes his fingers. Collapsing in relief, Christian tries to catch his breath, desperate to push down the bedding around his face. But it’s only a momentary reprieve as he’s immediately jammed full of David’s cock.

Christian gasps out in surprise, but David gives no time to adjust, no time for Christian to even struggle before he’s thrusting again, harder. David’s weight is heavy on his back, both hands holding him down, constricting his breath. But then David’s thrusts slow, get deeper and David’s weight shifts off of the hand on his back. Christian can feel David’s chest brushing his skin, lying on top of him, and then David’s breath.

Moaning softly, Christian relaxes some at the feel of David’s skin against his own, at David’s long dick pressing ri-ight there. Christian’s hips have started to move back into the cradle of David’s pelvis when there’s a sting on his back, fire spreading down, the distinct pain of skin splitting, of warmth. Christian’s shocked.

“Fuck!” Christian cries, struggling in earnest, struggling harder when he realizes he’s not even budging David’s weight. “Am I bleedin’? Fuck! Gerroff!”

David doesn’t budge, no matter how hard Christian tries to get up or get David off. But Christian abruptly stops struggling at the feel of something warm and wet, like a washcloth, or…a tongue.

Christian’s shocked into stillness then, and he readily goes as David turns him on to his back, even moving his legs to allow David to situate back between them. Christian doesn’t know what to say or do. David’s finally crossed a line that Christian isn’t going to let him get away with.

But David looks as confident as ever that he’s going to get his way. And then David’s hand shoots out toward Christian’s face. Christian has his eyes shut tight, bracing for a blow when David’s hand lands purposefully on his neck. Blue eyes pop open in terror as David starts to squeeze.

“What? You don’t like it?” David teases, his voice low and seductive. “I thought you liked it when I played rough?”

When Christian struggles this time, he’s desperate, kicking and thrashing and clawing at the implacable hand cutting off his air. He’s gasping, frantically attempting to suck in air as his face gets redder and redder.

Christian brings his knees to his chest, thinking to kick David off, but before he can even attempt it, David grabs his right ankle with his free hand and pushes his cock back in Christian’s gaping hole. Christian bucks at the painful intrusion, still trying to kick, but it doesn’t do any good. Christian’s vision starts to darken and blur at the edges and he can barely feel David thrusting into him.

“David,” he gasps out, pleading with the man that he never would have believed would hurt him purposefully like this.

David smiles and there’s something strange about the expression. “Stop struggling,” David practically purrs.

Exhausted and with no other choice, Christian stops, letting his legs fall but his hands still cling to David’s wrist. David’s grip on Christian’s throat slackens, but he doesn’t stop thrusting, jolting Christian’s limp body on the bed.

“Stop,” Christian chokes out. “David, wha…” He starts to cough, cutting off his words.

“Something happened today, earlier tonight,” David says conversationally. Then he lets go of Christian’s ankle to grab Christian’s right wrist, peeling Christian’s hand off no matter how hard Christian tries to keep his hold on David’s wrist. Christian’s arm is irrefutably pulled upwards.

David leans his face into Christian’s wrist and it seems like David is smelling him again.

“Aaahhh,” Christian cries out in horror and surprise when David bites down, teeth ripping into his skin like daggers instead of blunt human teeth. He struggles again, tries with both hands to pull his arm away but David is too strong, stronger than Christian thinks is physically possible.

When David squeezes his throat again, Christian falls gratefully into the awaiting darkness.  


[](http://s567.photobucket.com/albums/ss114/Melodious329/?action=view&current=dividerDB.png)

Steve looks up into the inky blue nighttime sky over LA, the moonlight shining silvery off of his pale blue eyes. The streets here are ever-changing, the buildings, the people, even the sky changed, not nearly as dark but now a blanket of Persian blue that is kept at bay with hundreds of electric lights.

His steps are confident as he walks away from the street where the cab dropped him off despite that he’s not in a good part of the city. Cool blue eyes observe the life going on around him impassively. There aren’t many cabs out here, but an occasional one rumbles down the street.

There are windows lit up in the buildings on each side despite the late hour, making some sort of composition by Piet Mondrian, and he can hear the sounds of people inside, scurrying like rats. He watches a homeless man pass him by who doesn’t look up from the sidewalk, the scent assaulting Steve’s nose.

Finally Steve reaches his destination, a larger, darker apartment building. Ducking his head, his long blonde hair falling forward to shield his face, Steve opens the front door. The lobby is an opulent reminder of times gone by, brightly lit, marble floors and dark woods, fresh flowers on the tables by the walls. But he doesn’t pause to admire these things, he moves toward the elevators, pressing the up button. The building seems empty but Steve knows that he would never have made it this far if he were human. It’s been a long time since Steve was here, but he is known here by the master.

Like most humans, most vampires can’t help but live in communities, seeking out the particular comfort of others of their kind against the tide of life outside these walls. Steve was born into life as a vampire in one such nest, long ago. But for the last two hundred years, he has been solitary, a wanderer, a gypsy moving from place to place trying to experience life however incidental. He isn’t trying to punish himself exactly, though he knows in most religious traditions he would have much to atone for. It’s more like somehow he rediscovered his passion for humanity, for what comprises life.

But sometimes he cannot resist the lure of interacting with his own kind at least for a short time, and he will stop by nests whose masters are known to him, those who respect that Steve is very old and the child of a master long gone. In these nests, Steve is safe. Because humans have never posed as great a threat to vampires as vampires do to themselves.

When the elevator door opens, there is a young vampire inside, a twenty-something pale boy with spiked blonde hair. Like most human communities, vampire nests have hierarchies, rules and regulations. The fledgling is obviously low ranking, not a child of the master so Steve steps inside the elevator without speaking, letting the other vampire choose the correct floor.

Steve stands comfortable and serene with his hands clasped in front, his chin tilted up to watch the increasing numbers and paying the other vampire no mind. The doors open again on the fourth floor.

Steve steps out alone into a large lobby on this floor as well, but it’s very dark and there are no flowers here. Waiting, Steve listens for the distinctive sounds of an active vampire nest. This is a large building and Steve knows that there may be as few as ten vampires living in a nest. Few vampires turn many humans in their lifetimes because most new vampires won’t live past the first ten years.

He can hear the sounds of humans outside, the creaking of an old building, a door shutting, and after a moment, Steve recognizes the faint but distinct sound of screaming.

But it’s when Steve hears footsteps that he reacts. “Jeff,” he says.

The master vampire of this nest steps further into the lobby, a small but genuine smile on his handsome face. Steve takes the other man’s outstretched hand in his own and Jeff slaps his other hand on Steve’s shoulder. Steve smiles and looks down at the marble flooring. He hates the stiffness of vampire interactions, formality born of suspicion as much as respect.

“Steve,” Jeff says finally. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“LA is one of my favorite places,” Steve teases because it’s been decades since he was here. He and Jeff have known each other a long time and despite their many differences, Steve enjoys the other vampire’s company.

“Let me show you to a room,” Jeff says cordially. “The sun is near rising.”

They walk down a darkened hallway, heavy drapes obscuring any possibly windows. Most of the rooms are empty Steve can tell by the absence of smell and sound inside, but they near one door where Steve can clearly smell the scent of life, of blood and sweat and fear.

Steve isn’t going to ask, but the door of that apartment opens just as Jeff is passing it. The smell hits Steve so hard he barely sees the vampire exiting the room at first, too intent on the rich scent, smokey and sweet like raging fires in winter and ripe peaches in summer.

Steve blinks and focuses on watching Jeff warmly greet the new arrival. The vampire is tall and broad and with dark hair, all characteristics that could also be used to describe Jeff himself, and yet this new vampire looks nothing like Jeff. This new vampire is light where Jeff is dark, but in both pairs of dark brown eyes Steve can see the same charm, the same pride, the same aloof cruelty.

“This is David,” Jeff introduces Steve, and Steve immediately knows that David is Jeff’s newest child. He can smell Jeff’s blood on the fledgling. “David, this is Steve, an old wanderer,” Jeff teases.

Steve gazes at David coolly as he extends his hand, deciding to reserve his decision on David’s character for later, when he knows the other vampire better. But he can’t help asking, “May I see?”

Gesturing briefly at the apartment David just emerged from, Steve doesn’t wait for permission before stepping past the larger, younger vampire to grasp the door handle. Surprisingly, though David is proud, he’s smart enough not to hinder Steve’s progress but to appeal to Jeff instead.

“Morgan,” David says the name of his maker sharply in displeasure.

But no one stops Steve as he opens the door and leads the way inside. He can feel Jeff’s presence at his back, following him inside.

Inside the darkened room, other smells assault Steve, the smell of sweat, old and new, of dirt and semen and dried blood. It stinks and Steve wrinkles his nose in distaste before he even looks at the source. In the middle of what is undoubtedly meant to be a living room is a man, nude and hanging by his arms chained above his head.

It’s not an unexpected sight. Steve isn’t shocked or indignant over the way a human is being treated, he’s no one to pass judgment. But there’s something about this man in particular. The bowed head lifts and dark hair, greasy and tangled, falls across the man’s face, tendrils catching in the rough facial hair growth. But the man’s blue eyes seem to catch what little light there is. They positively shine out of the mess with stunning intensity.

The man is afraid, he understandably reeks of it, but he isn’t cowed. Head up, the man looks muscular, wide shoulders, thick muscular arms and toned thighs, but he’s lean. Somehow the man manages to look both muscular and powerful, and small and vulnerable. It seems a trick of the eye and yet the bound man hasn’t moved to create the effect.

Stepping closer to verify that the man is actually about the size of Steve himself, Steve is surprised when the man lunges forward at him with a growl, the chains clanging as he pulls against them. Steve doesn’t flinch, doesn’t show his surprise on his face. Instead his expression clearly shows that he’s impressed with the man’s show of defiance.

But David is by the human’s side swiftly, his large hand fitting perfectly over the finger-shaped bruises on the man’s throat. That doesn’t make the man immediately stop fighting, though. Steve’s even more surprised when David starts to laugh, seemingly pleased with his pet’s defiance of him. Fingers tightening on the pet’s throat, David leans his face close, an intimate, familiar gesture, but the man responds by turning his face away, disgust evident in his curled lip.

The man is captivating in his chains, in his pain and in his defiance. And there’s still the delicious smell of his blood, underneath the stink. But despite the man’s lunge attack, Steve can clearly see that the human is in rough shape. He’s been bruised and bled, he looks exhausted and his skin dehydrated, and Steve doubts that David has been feeding the man.

“Your pet will not last much longer,” Steve mentions, trying to seem casual.

He should just walk away, he knows. Getting involved with humans is a bad idea under the best of circumstances, and taking the pet of Jeff’s child is not the best of circumstances.

And David reacts possessively immediately, maneuvering his body in front of the man’s as if to shield him. “I take care of him,” David snaps.

But it’s the human’s reaction that’s interesting. The man bumps David with his chest, an almost friendly gesture, a communication of the human’s indignation between two people who know each other.

“If you don’t want him around much longer,” Steve pushes, playing on David’s insecurities.

He’s realized David is very newly turned, and this man is more than a beautiful plaything, this man is from David’s human life. Steve has seen this behavior before. David is clinging to the man as his last link to his human life.

And Steve knows it’s a behavior Jeff will want to discourage. But Steve’s not expecting to see the mischievous twinkle in Jeff’s dark eyes.

“Maybe you want to help David?” Jeff suggests.

“I’ll feed him more blood,” David bargains. He immediately brings his wrist up, and the chained man starts fighting back immediately, trying to get away. Steve can tell David hasn’t been enticing the man to drink, but forcing him.

“Humans need more than blood,” Steve answers smugly, as if he’s more interested in humiliating David than actually getting the pet. Vampire blood can help a human heal temporarily, until the human’s blood and life subsumes the vampire poison.

Jeff smiles smugly himself in answer. “David, you know you have to share.”

Steve wonders how often this man has been ‘shared’ and he watches David and the man basically huddle together at the possibility. With Jeff’s permission secured, he steps forward, reaching his hand past David’s shoulder to brush a tendril of hair away from the man’s face and run a finger down the side of the man’s beautiful face.

“He’s filthy,” Steve says dismissively, another obvious jab at David.

Though David looks as if he wants to kill Steve, he doesn’t move besides a muscle in his jaw. Steve’s surprised. New vampires often have a difficult time learning their place, believing themselves invincible.

“I’ll have him brought to your room after the sun sets,” Jeff offers. Then he asks with a laugh, “Do you want him bathed?”

Steve allows himself to smile now. “No, I don’t trust that the job will be done well. However, I would like food and water brought with him,” Steve requests respectfully.

“Done,” Jeff says. “Now about your room.”

Steve is shown to a corner room, a large bedroom with a large ornate four poster bed and a large bathroom with a footed tub and a separate shower. It also has large windows on two walls. Steve is sure the view is beautiful though he doesn’t move the heavy drapes.  


[](http://s567.photobucket.com/albums/ss114/Melodious329/?action=view&current=dividerSC.png)

Steve is ready nearly as soon as the sun has dipped below the horizon the next evening, eager to see the human. His long blonde hair is pulled back in a low ponytail and he’s rolled up the sleeves of the white button down shirt he wears. The bath is already drawn, steaming water and a clean washcloth on the edge.

“Come in,” he calls out when he finally hears the knock on his door.

Three men shuffle sideways inside the door then, a vampire on each side of the human. Steve would almost laugh at the notion that this dying human needs two vampires to restrain him. But he’s more focused on the fact that the human is wearing chains, manacles on both wrists attached by a short length of chain to a collar the human is wearing around his neck.

“I said nothing about chains,” Steve says dismissively. “Remove them.”

The vampires look none-too-happy with obeying Steve, an outsider to their rigidly controlled hierarchy, but Steve shows no weakness. The two look at one another over the human’s bowed ahead in silent agreement. Then the vampire on the right releases the human’s arm and steps forward to release the chains. As soon as the chains are removed though, they let the human fall to the ground in a heap.

Steve resists showing any concern for the human and instead asks, “Where is the food I requested?”

The blonde vampire from the elevator hands over a backpack without speaking and Steve takes a moment to look inside instead of helping the human crumpled on the ground. But inside are only several bottles of water and some cheese cracker packs. It seems as though the shopping was done at the nearest convenience store.

“I will call down later, and you will get exactly the food I request from where I request. Is that clear?” Steve asks.

They both agree readily and leave as quickly as possible afterwards. That leaves Steve looking down at the man on the floor, a man who is surprisingly trying to push himself up from the floor. He’s up on spread knees, his arms locked to hold himself up even though his head hangs from his shoulders.

“Jus’ do it already,” the man says with his head still bowed to the floor, his voice a low growl.

“Do what?” Steve asks, his voice unconsciously sounding indifferent to the man’s plight.

The response has the man lifting his face, dark hair parting to show his face, to show those enthralling blue eyes. Steve almost misses what the man says next.

“Bite me, fuck me, beat me, whatever it is you wanna do. But I’m not in the mood fer mind games today,” the man attempts a wicked smile but the action pulls on the man’s split lower lip. It would appear David wanted to send the pet with his marks still upon the man.

Steve doesn’t answer, instead turning away to put the backpack down on the nearby desk. His lack of response makes the man uncomfortable, he can tell. The man is undoubtedly accustomed to receiving a furious reaction to his defiant comments. It’s a way to keep in control of the situation, Steve knows, despite the punishment.

Looking into the backpack again, Steve pulls out a bottle of water. He opens it before bending down to place the bottle on the floor right in front of the man.

The man doesn’t hesitate before grabbing at the bottle and sitting back on his heels to drink. Steve supposes the human knows it wouldn’t matter if it were drugged. Not when every person in this building could easily overpower him. But even as the man drinks, blue eyes are watching Steve, eyes filled with anger and confusion.

Soon enough, however, those eyes close something like relief and pleasure on the man’s face that softens the hard lines of pain there. He’s entirely focused on the water soothing his presumably parched throat.

Finished, the man simply drops the empty plastic bottle to the floor, his head dropping as well as if just drinking the water has taken the last of his strength.

With the man’s thirst quenched for the moment, Steve asks, “What is your name?” Steve asks.

“Why d’you care?” the man retorts, speaking to the ground again.

Steve hesitates, feeling uncommonly awkward. For all the observing of humans he has done these many years, he has always been outside them.  
He doesn’t know how to respond to this man, this man who makes him feel again, who makes him want to do more than observe.

But apparently the silence is just as awkward for the human, as his shoulders bunch and he says, “Christian.”

Steve purses his lips reflexively. It’s almost funny that that would be the man’s name. Steve is not religious, not one who considers vampires part of God’s plan, the darkness without which the light could not exist, but it’s ironic nonetheless.

“My name is Steve,” he says, but he’s surprised when Christian’s response is to laugh.

“Whoop-dee-do,” the human says and Steve knows enough to know he’s being made fun of.

Despite Christian’s bravado, the man flinches as Steve takes a step forward. But Steve isn’t upset at insult as many vampires would be. He’s certainly too old for his pride to be wounded by mere words.

“Well, Christian,” Steve continues, drawing out the name on his tongue. “You need a bath.”

Christian looks humiliated at the reminder of his degradation, but doesn’t move as Steve grips the man under his armpits, lifting him as one would an errant child and taking him to the spacious bathroom.

“The one vamp who thinks I’m too dirty t’ fuck,” Christian grumbles. The words don’t seem meant to be overheard, the man can’t keep his mouth shut.

As they reach the steaming tub, Steve simply changes his grip to get one hand under Christian’s knees and unceremoniously dumps the man in.

Landing with a splash, Christian stays surprisingly silent, not look glaring up at Steve or offering any witty retort. He simply pulls his knees up to his chest in the steaming bath, looking suddenly small without his mouthy defenses. It makes Steve feel guilty, an emotion he hasn’t been familiar with in quite a while. He knows that the man’s emotions are much more easily injured even than the man’s body.

But Steve’s not sure how else to act, not sure how to convey that he cares about this man or even whether he should. Angry at himself, he snatches up the washcloth and bar of soap.

But before he even dips the cloth in the water, he stops at the sight of open marks on Christian’s back and multi-colored bruises on his arms and torso just barely distinguishable from the dirt on his skin. David didn’t give him blood recently.

Sighing, Steve puts down the washcloth and soap and pulls up a stool to the tub. Sitting, he holds out the vulnerable underside of his wrist to the man, knowing Christian will understand his meaning. Blue eyes glance upwards but Christian doesn’t react in any other way.

“You need to drink,” Steve says in a gentler voice than before.

“No,” Christian growls to the water, his voice thick with emotion.

“Christian, I will give you food and water tonight, but if you want to live more than another day, you need to drink. You know this,” Steve persuades. He feels that this man does want to live, that Christian still has hope in his all too human heart.

When Christian lifts his face then Steve can see the emotion there, the pouting lips full of blood, eyes gone dark and stormy. “There is another way fer me t’live,” he murmurs without heat.

Steve knows it’s not an actual request to be released, not one that Christian imagines will be fulfilled, but it cuts Steve just the same. Steve is respected in this nest, but Christian belongs to Jeff who would never give away what his own child has claimed. There’s nothing Steve can do.

“Drink,” he entreats again.

This time he’s rewarded with a slight nod. Drawing his arm back, he wastes no time in biting into his own wrist, only spilling two bright red drops into the bathwater before he’s pressing the wound to Christian’s surprised lips.

Christian’s eyes are wide and afraid even as Steve can feel the soft touch of the man’s tongue. Christian doesn’t seem to know what to do to actually participate in this activity. Steve can tell Christian’s still not sure he even wants to participate as if it is somehow slowly leeching his humanity away with each unnatural act.

For Steve though, it’s an intimate act, an act of care that a vampire only performs with someone important enough to safeguard. He has to fight the impulse to cradle the back of Christian’s head, helping the man to drink. It’s not something he has done in a long time.

But after a mouthful or two, he can see Christian fight it more, the taste making the human gag. Hesitantly, he pulls back his wrist, thinking Christian should have gotten enough to help close any open wounds, prevent infection. The rest Steve knows is up to food and sleep.

Christian looks green and he brings up a hand to scrub at his mouth despite that not a drop of blood stains his plump lips. He conspicuously avoids looking at Steve though his eyes flit around without settling.

Steve goes ahead and picks back up the washcloth, rubbing soap into it. He starts on one of Christian’s shoulders, cleaning the man efficiently but indifferently. Christian’s body is beautiful, dirt washing away to reveal tan skin, rounded musculature. But it’s not Christian’s body that interests him.

He’s had beautiful men, beautiful women, hundreds of them. He’s attractive, and charming, mysterious and there have always been humans all too willing to be seduced by him, exposing their throats to him without understanding what they were doing.

But Christian is different. Christian’s personality, his will and defiance, his soul is different to Steve. He wants to kiss those plump lips, wants to lie on top of that body, thrusting inside, getting as close as possible. He wants Christian to want him.

Perhaps he should just force Christian, as the man expects him to. Perhaps that would be enough to break Steve of this infatuation, to see pure hate in Christian’s eyes. What does it matter? In a few days Christian will be dead from David’s overzealous attentions and Steve will move on to somewhere else, alone as he has chosen to be.

Steve pushes Christian to lean forward, sweeping the cloth over a broad back down to a tapered waist. But then Christian cups his hands to splash water on his face and Steve is captivated at the sight, Christian’s full mouth is open on a breath and his eyelashes are clumped with water, and he’s beautiful. Steve can’t force him.

Jerking his attention away, Steve pushes Christian back against the tub like an inanimate doll before running the cloth down Christian’s chest, ignoring the way Christian’s abs clench and shudder at his touch. He doesn’t shy away from washing Christian’s crotch, his dick and inner thighs, water splashing onto Steve’s white shirt as his arm delves deeper into the water.

Steve only lifts Christian slightly to reach the man’s ass. A glance tells Steve that Christian is unnerved, off-guard at the cold clinical touch in so intimate a context. Setting the washcloth aside, Steve holds up the bottle of shampoo, warning Christian before he reaches out a hand to the back of Christian’s neck. Slowly, he tips Christian’s head back, bright blue eyes unsure of where to look, pupils constricted in fear.

With his other hand, he squeezes some out on Christian’s head and then sets the bottle aside to rub the shampoo in. Christian’s long eyelashes flutter, but it’s Steve who has to swallow hard. He quickly washes the shampoo out.

Steve debates refilling the tub with fresh water as he leans Christian’s head back against the tub’s inclined edge, but then he has another thought.

Tucking loose strands behind his ears with wet fingers, Steve asks, “Would you like me to shave your face?” He’s eyeing the man’s stubble so long it will soon be a beard instead.

He can see that Christian is torn, knows that the scruff must be itchy at that length. Steve goes ahead and grabs the shaving cream and razor, sitting again on the stool. Christian swallows, eyeing the razor uncomfortably as Steve opens it.

But then Christian lifts his chin, just a little. It looks like a challenge to Steve, Christian’s defiance, fearlessness coming back.

“It’s not like yer teeth aren’t jus’ as sharp,” Christian quips, hiding behind his wit again. “You seem awfully int’rested in gettin’ me clean  
though.”

It’s clear that Christian doesn’t see any of this as a kindness, but simply as a different form of self-gratification for Steve. And Christian isn’t wrong. Steve doesn’t need to lean in to smell the human’s scent, musky like freshly chopped cedar wood. It’s no longer overlaid with the scent of semen, of dirt, of David’s blood, of David’s scent.

So Steve breathes in a deep unnecessary breath before rubbing the shaving cream into the man’s face and neck. But with Christian’s head tilted back, his gaze goes lower to David’s still unhealed mark, the bite sloppy, tearing the flesh around it, causing needless pain. Jealousy stirs in Steve’s chest, the need to over that bite with his own.

Instead, he focuses on swiping the razor down Christian’s cheek, aware that Christian swallows again in fear. Steve doesn’t draw out the process, but makes quick work, not wanting to take intimacy where it hasn’t been given.

“Done,” he says as he finishes.

Christian tips his face forward to rinse off the remaining cream with the bathwater and Steve uses his distraction to grab a towel, coaxing the man to lie back so he can squeeze the excess water from dark hair.

“Come,” Steve says, invites the human despite that he won’t make Christian stand on his own.

Steve insinuates his arm around Christian’s back, pulling the man up to his feet and into his own chest disregarding the wetness seeping into his shirt. He doesn’t just pick Christian up like a bride, but walks Christian with him, a maneuver designed to let Christian feel as if he is only being helped to walk when in fact Steve supports all of the man’s weight, Christian’s feet only dragging the floor as before.

But Steve walks them faster than a human could, trying not to prolong the uncomfortable moment, but to get Christian onto the bed as quickly as possible.

Christian shakes wet strands out of his face before looking up into Steve’s face. “Course, you’d wanna do this ona bed,” he teases casually.  
Christian’s body says something different though. He’s bracing for what will come next as if he’s decided that the bathroom was merely foreplay for the inevitable.

Christian scrambles back a little on the bed as Steve walks over to the bookbag, grabbing for another bottle of water and a package of crackers. He puts them on the night table and then retreats a few steps to give Christian space.

“I will have them bring you hot food later,” Steve explains. He reflects that the statement may have seemed domineering when Christian still stares at him with a suspicious expression. But Steve still doesn’t know how else to say it. He simply continues, “I’m assuming sleeping during the day has been difficult for you.”

The man’s angry expression flickers, though Steve didn’t need the confirmation to know that he’s right. Still the icy glare is back in cool blues eyes immediately.

“What. The. Fuck is goin’ on? What d’you want?!” Christian’s voice gets shrill, frantic at the uncertainty of the situation.

Steve is cool in the face of Christian’s desperation, unsure as ever how to respond and uncomfortable with how much he wants to soothe the man’s distress. He’s spent so long being separate from his emotions, living in his head and preferring to observe humans he can never again be a part of rather than live in a vampire society.

Something about this man has Steve getting involved, wanting to do something more than observe. But he has no idea how to comfort this amazing, resilient individual. And given the situation that they find themselves in, it’s undoubtedly better that Christian not know of Steve’s emotions, not know of Steve’s weakness that could be manipulated. There’s nothing that can be done.

“I just want you to sleep,” Steve says clearly. “I want you to survive a little longer.”

“So y’can fuck me later? Feed offa me? Am I suppos’d t’ stay with you now?” Christian questions further.

“No,” Steve says and for once, his sadness is evident in his voice. “David will come for you tomorrow evening.”

“Then why’re you wastin’ yer time with me sleepin’?” Christian asks, desperation in bright blue eyes that plead to understand.

But Steve can’t say that as much as he wants to fuck Christian, to feed from Christian, he’d rather have Christian alive for another day than satisfy his own physical desires.

“Sleep,” Steve says again more firmly.

Stoically, Steve moves completely away then, taking a seat at the desk and picking up one of the many books he carries around with him. In his human life, he had not even had the ability to read, but now much of his time is spent with books. Books are also his cover, allowing him to sit in public places rather drawing too much attention to himself.

He uses it again now to hide his observation of the human on the bed. Christian lies there staring at him in a huff for long minutes, but eventually Christian gives in to his exhaustion. With nothing else to do, Christian settles in, climbing underneath the fluffy covers and covering his body up to his chin.

But one suspicious eye stays on Steve for a while longer even as Christian is lying down. It’s understandable that he doesn’t trust Steve, but soon enough the exhaustion and comfort is pulling him towards sleep.

Heavy lids close, then open and flutter only to close again until finally Christian stays asleep. Steve can’t help the way that the book in his hands immediately drops to his lap as he’s finally free to just stare though there isn’t much of the man still visible in the nest of blankets.

As if he can feel the weight of Steve’s stare, Christian shifts in his sleep, turning further onto his back and his plush lips part. Afraid to wake Christian from much needed rest, Steve lifts the book again, tearing his eyes away to concentrate on reading despite the distraction in front of him.

In the next hour, Steve reads maybe four pages. Even though he doesn’t look up, all of his other senses are trained on his guest. He smells the man’s scent becoming richer and warmer with sleep, hears the man’s breath even and deep. Christian sleeps like the dead.

But after about another hour, the smell changes, becomes tinged with the acrid scent of fear. The sounds change as Christian’s breath quickens and his heartbeat speeds up. Christian is making small bitten off sounds of pain and the bedclothes rustle as he thrashes against imaginary foes.

Steve is by his side in an instant, but once there, he’s uncertain what to do. He doesn’t think that Christian would want to be touched while asleep by an unknown vampire, startled. Still he gives in to his need to be close, climbing onto the other side of the bed on top of the covers.

Steve lies down on his side facing the dreaming man as Christian begins to mumble in his sleep. “No…nnnn, David, David, why…?”

“Sshhh,” Steve soothes in a soft voice. “You’re safe, Christian.”

He’s surprised when Christian turns back onto his side, turning towards Steve and the soothing voice still asleep.

“I’m here,” Steve says, a whisper nearly too soft for human hearing.

Christian settles back down and Steve turns onto his back, removing the temptation to stare at Christian’s peaceful face. Instead, he tucks his arms behind his head and stares at the white ceiling.

How could anyone possibly answer why? It’s impossible to explain how a young vampire feels invincible, freed from every rule and law, adopting the mentality of a predator and humans are only prey as once chicken and cows were. How to explain also that eventually every vampire comes to grieve for his lost humanity? How some simply cannot live with their existence and what they have done and walk into the light. How old vampires each find some excuse that they can live with.

Steve wonders if Christian would survive as a vampire. The man is so full of life, Steve doesn’t know if he would survive long. If he did, Steve thinks Christian would be of the kind to justify his vampirism by killing the evil doer, the human predator. Steve himself drinks from the willing, men and women charmed by him and looking to get into his bed. He lives without killing, supplementing his diet with easily stolen donated blood packets.

He meant to move from the bed once Christian settled, he did, but somehow he’s still lying there when Christian wakes an unknown amount of time later. Steve hears Christian’s breath quicken from one moment to the next, and then Christian is immediately moving, pushing up on one arm to look down on Steve lying next to him.

Lazily, Steve looks over at Christian’s face above him. Christian is blinking sleepy lids, his hair mussed and still damp. Steve can’t resist, his hand moves without his permission to stroke down the side of Christian’s now smooth cheek.

Christian looks surprised at the gesture but he doesn’t jerk away. As soon as Steve’s hand drops though, Christian is moving away, sitting all the way up and turning away. Steve still doesn’t move, but out of the corner of his eye, Steve watches Christian leaning to get the bottle of water, draining it.

“Can I go t’ the bathroom?” Christian asks with his face still turned away, sounding as if he’s grinding his teeth at having to ask.

“Of course,” Steve responds easily.

Stiffly, Christian climbs off the bed but he stumbles as he tries to stand on his own. Steve is there before Christian falls to the floor, moving faster than a human could to grab Christian around the waste

He knows Christian isn’t happy at needing help, but there’s nothing for it. Steve walks them into the bathroom and then sits the naked man down on the toilet.

Christian looks utterly mortified as Steve moves away, and Steve can understand. Humans are so much more susceptible to weakness, but still Christian doesn’t seem like a man who accepts help graciously, particularly not help that leaves him sitting on the toilet to take a piss, like a woman.

“I’ll grab another bottle of water,” Steve says, an excuse to give Christian a little privacy.

He stalls at the task until he can hear that Christian is finished. And then he quickly sweeps Christian back into the bed.

“Would you like some real food brought up?” Steve offers, changing the subject.

But Christian’s mood seems to darken further at the question, his mouth twisting up in a sneer. “Really? What? I get food and you get food?”

Steve holds the angry glare and tries to explain. “Yes, I have to bite you. Otherwise Jeff will be suspicious, but I promise I won’t take but a small amount.”

Christian gets even angrier at his acknowledgment. “You are! This’s jus’ some setup for you t’ believe that I’m willing and you’re seducin’ me or some shit!”

Steve moves quicker than the eye can process as he pushes Christian down onto the pillows and leans over the man. “I won’t hurt you,” Steve whispers.

Christian looks at him again like he’s suddenly grown horns out of his head and Steve knows that his lust, his desire for this man is showing all over his face, in the intensity of his eyes. Steve stares down at Christian for a long moment, before firmly takes Christian’s wrist in one hand. He doesn’t force the man, but waits for Christian to relax his resistance before lifting it.

Blue eyes are darting from Steve’s face to the hand on his wrist, but still Steve waits. He’s waiting for Christian to look at him, and then Steve holds that gaze, holding it as Christian’s breath gets shallower. There’s still the tinge of fear on the air, but Steve can also smell lust, a deeper musky smell. Still not looking away, Steve only moves to place an intimate kiss on the sensitive skin.

Christian’s breath hitches, the sound Steve is waiting for and his fangs sink into vulnerable flesh, causing two pairs of blue eyes to close. Steve hears the slight grunt of pain before the smell of lust grows, pervading the air. Steve can taste it in Christian’s blood, blood that tastes like the smoke of an open fireplace, the taste of home and family, the spice of holiday pies and hot toddies.

But he only takes a mouthful, filling his mouth with the taste before he’s pulling away. Then he simply runs his tongue over the wound, causing the blood to clot and stop the flow of blood.

Steve can hear Christian’s breath speed up, hear him sucking in breaths that heave his muscular chest in arousal. Steve can’t make himself lift his head from Christian’s wrist, Christian’s hand, even though he denies himself any more blood. Cradling Christian’s strong hand, he mouths up the side of a thumb, sucking at the muscle there, nipping at a forefinger, drawing the tip of it into his mouth that’s warmer now with blood. He sucks at the finger, drawing it further into his mouth before pulling it out slowly.

“God, you taste good,” Steve murmurs unconsciously. He can’t seem to control himself around Christian.

But his words have Christian immediately tensing, pulling a little reflexively on his hand and his breath stops for a moment. Steve knows that he should let go, but he can’t seem to make his hand obey.

Drawing his face away, Steve looks down at Christian’s expression of displeasure. He can imagine that Christian feels objectified. Christian has been used by one whom he considered a friend or lover, used only for his body, his sex, his blood.

Then Christian shifts and Steve realizes that he’s been focusing too much on what he can see. Christian is drawing up his leg on the bed to hide that his cock has filled with blood, fat and long it curves out from Christian’s body.

“It’s normal,” Steve soothes. “Many find it arousing.” Steve only wishes that it meant that Christian is attracted to him but he knows that it is simply a side effect.

He’s surprised when a red flush spreads up Christian’s neck onto his cheeks. “It never happen’d with any other,” Christian mumbles embarrassed.

Steve allows himself a small indulgent smile, affection flooding his own blue eyes. “The others must frighten you.” Most other vampires would rather force than seduce. His free hand touches the mangled flesh on Christian’s neck and the man flinches. “David is young and overzealous.”

Steve trails his fingers away from the bite mark and over the hollow of Christian’s throat. Christian reacts so quickly, tilting his head back ever so slightly, his body suddenly seeming relaxed and welcoming though he keeps his eyes on Steve’s face.

Steve takes the invitation, trailing his knuckles down Christian’s sternum before bending down, his lips grazing the skin. He maneuvers his body in between Christian’s legs, his hip gently pushing Christian’s thighs apart. But he keeps his body above Christian’s own, nothing but the occasional brush of his clothes against overheated skin.

He explores with his lips. Steve’s mouth presses a kiss to the middle of Christian’s chest, then sucks the skin on the edge of a pectoral, down to the first groove of a rib. They’re not hickies, but they leave a shining trail of saliva down Christian’s chest, all the way to the first dark hairs and a belly button. Steve can’t resist sucking a moment longer on the rim of a bellybutton, biting at the softer belly directly underneath, the shelf of muscle where torso meets hip and thigh.

His lips finally reach Christian’s thigh, the hair dark and coarse there. Steve gets his arms underneath, lifting Christian’s thigh a little so he can more easily kiss along the inner skin there, moving up now finally towards Christian’s blood red cock and drawn up balls. But he raises his eyes to find Christian’s dark eyes still staring down at him transfixed.

It’s now Steve who is transfixed by that stormy blue concentration. With one hand, he lifts Christian’s thigh higher, opening the man further. But now he drags blunt human teeth down sensitive skin.

Christian’s breath hitches and he bites his lip as if to contain his reaction. And then he nods, a short sharp movement that’s the answer to a question Steve only half-realized he was asking.

Steve closes his eyes and bites deep into the vein buried there. Vaguely, he realizes Christian jerking in his grasp, moaning loudly, the slightly sour scent of fresh cum. Steve loses himself in Christian’s blood this time, taking more than one mouthful like he wouldn’t let himself the first time, reveling in the flow of it down his parched throat.

Gasping in an unnecessary breath, Steve forces himself to pull away, licking his lips and regaining control before he ducks his head back down to lick the wound and the small trails of blood there. When his tongue lingers on Christian’s skin this time, he doesn’t hear any objection.

He smiles against warm skin and then finally looks up, but instead of looking into Christian’s eyes, he’s looking down on Christian’s limp, heaving body, sweat glistening on tan skin. He can’t resist leaning back down, licking the cooling cum on a quivering belly, tasting an entirely different essence of the man.

Christian huffs something between a low moan and a laugh as Steve takes a last lick before sitting up again. But even as the sweat dries, Steve can see bliss turning to shame. Christian turns his face toward the empty side of the bed, dark tendrils of hair clinging to his sweaty throat.

“Fuck, I am a slut,” Christian whispers and it’s clear the words weren’t meant for Steve to hear.

Steve hasn’t even figured out how to respond when Christian speaks again, louder this time. “Wattabout that food?” he asks, his voice sounding gruff but trying for casual.

“Whatever you want,” Steve offers, moving away easily.

He would love to lick the sweat off of Christian’s chest, but he knows that he has already gone too far. He can’t erase the taste of Christian from his tongue, the feel of Christian from his lips. And the way that Christian looks embarrassed but keeps glancing at him…

Christian rattles off his order of a burger from his favorite local 24 hour diner and Steve immediately calls downstairs. By the time he turns back from the phone, Christian is hiding his naked body under the covers again, curled over a pillow and looking as if he’s trying to pretend he’s going back to sleep.

Steve settles down on the other side on the bed again, this time with one arm propping up his head as he ventures to ask Christian about LA, the changes that have occurred, the popular restaurants and bars according to this man. Surprisingly, Christian readily lifts his head, giving up his pretense of sleeping in favor of the distraction of innocuous conversation.

But it’s not innocuous to Steve. He likes that Christian seems to know as much about hole-in-the-wall diners as fancy restaurants. It’s then he learns that Christian actually works as a chef, and plays and sings in bars on the weekends.

He doesn’t have enough time to explore Christian’s musical tastes and abilities before the food is arriving. The young vampires got the order right at least, and Christian wolfs it down like he’s never seen food before.

Afterwards, Christian is exhausted, full and relaxed. The man is asleep almost before Steve notices, but he does notice how Christian fell asleep almost against his side. Smiling to himself, Steve tucks his hands behind his head again and happily stares at the ceiling.  


[](http://s567.photobucket.com/albums/ss114/Melodious329/?action=view&current=dividerCK.png)

Steve actually napped, something he can’t remember doing since…well, he can’t remember. But he can feel the dawn coming now and perhaps Christian can as well. The man has moved from Steve’s side, turning over and snuffling in his sleep as if he can’t find his earlier comfort.

Steve can hear the sounds of doors shutting inside the apartment building, other vampires coming in for the night, a few loud and revelrous. It distracts Steve enough that he’s surprised when there’s a knock at his own door.

“Come in,” he calls out without a thought, but he’s sitting up immediately when David and the young vampire from the elevator come in.  
“I’ve just come to collect him for the day,” David says, his voice smug but just this side of respectful. But he marches right over to Christian’s side of the bed.

Steve watches Christian futilely trying to yank his arm out of David’s rigid grasp. But Steve doesn’t move to help. If Jeff were here right now, perhaps he could argue that he should be allowed to have Christian through the day, but it’s unlikely. David is verging on the edge of disrespect coming into Steve’s room right now but David could argue that he wouldn’t expect Steve to bring the man back himself.

Christian is David’s plaything and ultimately Jeff wouldn’t take that away from his child. And violence for any reason against David would be met with swift and final retribution from the entire nest. There’s nothing he can do to protect Christian.

So he watches from his seat against the headboard as Christian fights for himself, twisting in David’s grasp as he’s dragged off the bed and towards the door.

“David!” Christian yells but it’s with a pleading tone. Christian is trying to maneuver himself to look David in the eyes, to make David look him in the eyes as if to see David’s humanity there. “David, stop. I’ll come…look, I’ll…”

But Christian fights harder as David maneuvers the smaller, mortal man around so that he’s facing the bed, facing Steve. David wraps a hand around Christian’s throat again, an oft repeated gesture, and wraps the other around Christian’s waist to control the human.

“He is healthier,” David remarks and Steve really can’t tell whether the words are for him or for Christian. “You put the fight back in him.”

Christian’s face is red and he has both hands pulling at the hand around his vulnerable throat. But he still has air to talk, “David, why…?” The words he said in his earlier nightmare.

“I don’t like him to fight,” David says darkly as he moves his hand quickly from Christian’s throat to cruelly pulling at Christian’s dark hair, pulling Christian’s head back to expose his throat now.

Christian doesn’t have time to struggle as David head darts down to that exposed skin, biting in viciously to reopen torn skin and drinking in deeply. For long moments there’s only the sound of David drinking messily, a trail of red blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. Christian’s struggles become weaker and weaker until he’s hanging limply from David’s hold.

Steve can just barely see the blue of Christian’s eyes. He wishes to see betrayal in those blue eyes, because he feels like a betrayer. But what he sees is much worse. He watches those intense blue eyes go dim, lifeless, hopeless.

Steve knew that that life, that defiance wouldn’t survive forever, but to see Christian losing the battle right in front of him after their night together is unbearable.

But David doesn’t stop there. “Do you want to watch?” David asks, his expression gleeful, like he’s showing off, letting Steve in on a secret. “Most like to watch.”

David doesn’t wait for an answer, already assuming that a vampire so interested in Christian will say yes. Steve barely sees, his eyes unfocused, as Christian is placed on the ground, David kneeling behind the prone man, pulling Christian’s hips up. All he focuses on are those crystal blue eyes surrounded by long wet lashes as Christian’s body is rocked, jolted forward rhythmically, his face sliding along the wooden floor.

When David fists his hand in that long dark hair again, pulling Christian’s head back at a steep angle, Steve can’t watch anymore. He practically steps over Christian’s body on his run out of the door.  
***

The next evening finds Steve skulking around David’s apartment door. The previous morning, he had wandered the hallways of the carefully dark apartment building for an hour before heading back to his apartment. He was right in assuming that David would leave quickly. Playing with his pet on Steve’s floor wasn’t as fun without a witness to show off Christian in front of. David was probably surprised at the weakness Steve showed by leaving.

But in that time, he decided that he had to see Christian again so he waits for David to leave. As a young vampire, David needs blood every day and Steve knows that David can’t feed enough off of Christian without killing the human. He can only hope David doesn’t opt to have blood brought to him, but the young like to hunt.

The night is more than half over by the time David finally leaves, looking happy and sated already. He waits a few minutes for David to be out of the building but then Steve stands up straight, putting on a show as he confidently strides up to the door of David’s apartment, knocking on it loudly despite that he knows that there will be no answer. Then he walks inside.

The living room is dark, but it looks like a living room now, no human chained to the ceiling. Steve frowns, but he continues further into the apartment, walking into the bedroom.

There he finds the prize he’s been seeking. Christian is on the stripped-down bed, hog-tied on his belly. His wrists are tied to his ankles, arms stretched back behind him and his knees bent up so his feet point up at the ceiling.

Christian doesn’t stir or startle, shows no fear even though he must have heard someone come in. Steve can’t bear to break the silence as he puts one knee on the bed and reaches to untie the ropes. But even as he works to free the man, he can’t help the way his eyes are drawn down to trace the lines of blood on Christian’s back, scratches as if David dragged his fangs down the skin, and the cum still gleaming between bruised cheeks and thighs.

The ropes begin to fall away, revealing raw skin underneath, but not blood. Christian’s arms flop down limply as soon as he’s freed with only a weak sound of pain as the man pulls the abused limbs into his body. Steve lets him, instead examining the severity of the scratches, his light touch causing Christian to shiver.

Finally, Christian speaks. “Wha’ ‘re you doin’ ‘ere?” he slurs then hisses as Steve touches a particularly deep cut.  
Steve doesn’t answer as he bites his own wrist, letting a few drops of blood drip into the deepest cuts and smearing blood over the rest.  
Christian struggles a little, ineffectually, in response. “Wha…? Stop,” he says. His voice sounds wrecked, nothing like the teasing growl Steve heard before.

“I’m closing these wounds on your back. Don’t worry,” Steve soothes, explaining his actions that Christian can’t see.

“Stop,” Christian says again and this time the word is desperate, a plea. Christian sounds on the verge of tears. “You’re jus’ makin’ it worse.”

Reflexively, Steve pulls his hands away from Christian’s warm skin. Yesterday this man had been defiant, had been fighting against overwhelming odds, but now…now this man has realized there’s no escape. Looking at him, Steve can’t blame him. Christian is cool to the touch, deathly pale, drained and weak. It is likely this is the human’s last dawn approaching.

Christian must realize how dire the situation is because he continues talking like it’s his last chance. “I loved him.”

The words hang in the air between them for a long moment. “But I guess…he dinn’t,” Christian mumbles. “Even when he was…human.” The admission that David is not human now seems hard for Christian, as if he were clinging to David’s humanity as much as David himself clings to Christian.

Christian coughs then, a hacking painful sound and Steve can’t help laying his hand on the human’s back in comfort. When Christian speaks again his voice is thin.

“Y’know I useta like it, when he was rough,” Christian makes a wheezing sound and it takes Steve a moment to realize it’s some approximation of a laugh. “When he held m’ down…”

Steve can’t help the way his gut clenches at Christian’s words. That’s what he longs for, a partner, a partner that’s strong enough to stand up to him, but willing submits physically. He has to wonder if Christian would ever be able to do that, to submit again if he even survives this.

And right then, he suddenly has to know the answer to that question. He needs Christian to survive, needs to have a chance to find out what having a partner is like, what having Christian is like, what making love to Christian is like.

“Christian,” Steve says, speaking low and soft as he places his hand back on the man’s back. He leans down to speak directly into Christian’s ear and ends up lying down on his side again. “He’ll never let you go.”

From this angle, Steve can see the dark smudges surrounded tired blue eyes. Christian starts to nod, but Steve isn’t finished speaking.

“You’d have to leave LA. You’d have to hide, never speak to any of your friends, your family ever again,” Steve continues. “You’d have to stay with me.”

Crystal blue eyes finally focus on him, and Christian speaks, his words muffled by the side of his face smushed against the mattress still. “I won’ change one master fer ‘nother.”

Steve takes a chance and reaches out to stroke the back of his knuckles against Christian’s too sharp cheekbone. “I won’t force you. But David won’t forget. I want you to know that.”

He needs Christian to know what he’s getting into, know that it’ll be forever, for both of them. Even if David doesn’t last as a new vampire, Jeff will want retribution. It isn’t just Christian’s life that is going to change after this.

Steve can feel the dawn coming, knows that soon David will come back to the apartment, back to his toy. But he looks into Christian’s exhausted face, looks into those incredible eyes that look back as if he can’t quite believe what Steve is offering at this point.

It makes a fire burn in Steve’s gut, and he grabs Christian feeling entirely reckless. He pulls Christian upright by the man’s shoulders despite the way Christian’s head flops as he’s moved.

“Do you want to live?” Steve questions fiercely.

“Yes,” Christian croaks, trying to hold his head up.

Steve drags Christian’s limp body up with him as he stands, holding Christian tight to his body with a strong arm. With his right hand, he grabs the thick curtain and pulls it off the curtain rod. Then he grabs a nearby desk chair and hurls it out the window to break the glass.

“Where do you live?” Steve asks.

Christian’s head is lying on his shoulder and he can barely hear Christian’s confused mumblings while listening to the alarmed sounds of the rest of the vampires in the building.

“Where?” Steve demands louder.

Christian finally manages to coherently mumble his address, and that’s all that Steve needs. He tucks Christian’s face into his shoulder while  
pulling the rest of the man’s body across his own with his other hand. Then he jumps out the fourth story window.

He lands on his feet in the middle of the street. He spares a second to listen if any vampires are going to follow them. Then he shifts  
Christian’s weight across his shoulders in a fireman’s carry before he takes off running.

He doesn’t have time to worry if any humans have seen them jumping out of a building or running too fast. As hoped he doesn’t hear any vampires after them. It’s so close to dawn, he’s worried about his own ability to get them to Christian’s house. Other vampires won’t risk going out if they don’t have time to get back to the apartment building.

Everything is just a blur around them and Steve is starting to become very concerned that their escape may have been all for nothing, but then there it is, Christian’s house, small but charming just outside of the city. In desperation, he forces the front door open.

He tries to close the front door, the last thing they need are the cops right now, and then rushes through the home into the bedroom. Setting  
Christian down on the bed, Steve jerks down the shades and then closes the curtains. Just in time.

Relieved, he turns back to the bed to see Christian moving slowly as if just waking up. He must’ve passed out on the way. Blinking heavy lids, Christian suddenly seems to notice his surroundings.

“M’home,” he whispers as he tries to push himself up on his arms. “Wha’re we…?”

Steve takes pity on the man and presses Christian back to the mattress with a hand on his forehead.

“We can only stay here today. This will be the first place they’ll look for us come night.” He lets that knowledge sink in for a moment before he adds, “Think on what you would like to take with you from here. We’ll pack some of your clothes, of course.”

Steve thinks on his own bags that are still in Jeffery’s nest. But he carries nothing of personal value with him. It’s only clothes that he’ll leave behind.

But he knows how tough it is for Christian to leave his entire life behind. It’s much the same as how young vampires feel, to know that they cannot contact their family or friends, that they will watch from afar as their loved ones grow old and pass away. Christian is not a vampire but he is suffering much the same consequences all the same.

He watches as Christian stretches out his right arm to the empty side of the bed, his hand gently curling into the bed sheets as if realizing how flimsy his hold on this life is. There’s nothing Steve can say to make this easier so he turns his face away, leaving the room to get Christian some water.

Unfortunately, he only has to peek around the corner to see the kitchen filled with sunlight, there isn’t a curtain on the window above the sink. It appears that Christian will have to go in himself to get any food. Trying to be useful, Steve checks the bathroom, finding a small cup by the sink that he fills with water.

Christian is nearly asleep when he reenters the bedroom, having crawled under the covers, exhaustion overriding any fear or remorse. Steve wants to let Christian sleep, but he knows that Christian needs water, lots of it to recuperate.

“Christian,” he whispers the man’s name, brushing strands of dark hair off Christian’s face before he gets one hand underneath the back of Christian’s head, lifting the man’s head up so that he can drink. And Christian drinks thirstily.

The cup’s empty in an instant and when Steve lays the man back down, Christian immediately turns his face into the pillow to sleep. Letting him finally fall to sleep, Steve refills the cup and places it on the nightstand by the man. Then with nothing else to do, he crosses to the other side of the bed and undresses himself down to his briefs to get under the covers, feeling the tiredness that comes with the sun every morning. He’s pleasantly surprised when Christian turns toward him again, falling asleep on his stomach.

But the sleep isn’t restful for either of them. It’s not that Steve needs blood, he drank some donated blood that Jeff sent to him last night,  
but the smell of a human curled next to him is overwhelming and distracting. Then at some point, Christian wakes up at some point to fumble for the glass of water and then stumble out of bed. Steve helps him to the bathroom and fills the glass again. But they’re both awake as the sun begins to sink below the horizon.

Steve slips out from the sheets, silent as if he’s trying not to wake his bed partner. But he can feel Christian’s eyes on him as he looks in Christian’s dresser. He doesn’t ask before borrowing some clothes from Christian, Plain jeans and a grey t-shirt, even a black hair band. Fortunately, they’re about the same size and Christian has a penchant for large shapeless clothes, hoodies and puffy vests. Having seen the trim body underneath, Steve’s somewhat confused.

Christian has struggled into sitting up against the headboard when Steve turns back to the bed. And Christian answers calmly when Steve asks him which clothes and jewelry to pack. But out of those, Steve picks out clothes for Christian to wear. Even then, Christian is quiet, pliant as Steve pulls black boxer briefs and a worn pair of blue jeans up muscular legs, pulls a soft green t-shirt over a dark head and slides warm flannel up Christian’s arms. To save space in the luggage, Steve buckles on a thick leather watch too. It makes Steve wonders if Christian left any special jewelry with David, but it’s not something he would ask, not something Steve wants Christian to think about when he’s only leaving more behind.

Christian’s still so weak. One unmolested night with intermittent sleep has helped Christian recuperate, but he still needs food. Suddenly leaving the packing, Steve peeks into the kitchen. The waning sun has left the kitchen in darkness and he starts grabbing all the nonperishable food items, crackers and cans of soup.

He’s barely entered the room with his stash when Christian is leaning over, grabbing a can of soup. “Can y’get me a spoon?” he asks.  
Steve’s caught off guard for a second, but he quickly runs back into the kitchen. It’s a good idea for Christian to eat since he can’t help.  
Still it seems strange when Christian pulls open the top and digs in, eating right out of the can with a shaking hand.

But it’s only a few spoonfuls later that he stops eating, his hands falling to his lap still holding the can and spoon. The man lets out a big breath and Steve knows that Christian is unsurprisingly full and unsurprisingly weak and exhausted. What does surprise Steve is how little Christian is reacting to Steve going through his things. He expected Christian to react stoically, to accept the burdens thrust upon him, but perhaps he expected more suspicion of himself as a vampire.

Steve sees that Christian seems about to collapse back down on the pillow and has no choice but to stop him. “It’s almost time to go. Is there anything else you’d like to take that’s portable?” Steve asks respectfully.

Christian bites his lip and doesn’t move or respond for a moment, but then he hauls himself up off the bed only to stumble into the dresser, his hands scrabbling for a hold so he can keep himself upright. He’s breathing hard at the exertion but it’s clear he’s determined to do this himself. And he still looks better than he did that morning, his skin warmer and less pale.

After a moment of rest, Christian reaches across the dresser to grab a photo album displayed there and the framed family photo next to it. “These,” Christian says, handing them over to Steve as if for approval.

Steve simply nods, placing the mementos in between some clothes in the bag to protect them. Then he pulls Christian back to sit on the edge of the bed. When he steps away, Christian is leaning his elbows on his knees with one hand covering his mouth, a nervous gesture. There is much to be anxious about.

“Your car is not here?” Steve asks simply.

Christian rubs his hand over his mouth before dropping it to answer, “No.”

“Just as well,” Steve answers. “They will expect us to take it and we have no knowledge of how many friends Jeff may have. We shall have to steal one.”

The idea of stealing clearly makes Christian uncomfortable and his face sets in a hard frown, but he doesn’t object. Instead, Christian tucks his hair behind his ears and tries to shove his feet into the boots he’d earlier requested.

Finished packing, Steve kneels down beside Christian, deftly putting them on Christian’s feet. They’re ready then, packed with food and clothes for now. There’s no reason to linger. Steve has to admit the only reason he hesitates is his own reluctance to cause Christian any further pain by leaving.

Steve pulls Christian up, holding the man tight to his side as he swings the bag over his shoulder. He still doesn’t have the right words, the right way to express any of his emotions to this human.

“We must leave. Jeff’s vampires will be here as soon as the light dies,” Steve explains as he’s dragging Christian through the living room to the busted door. If he catches the sheen of tears in the human’s blue eyes, he pretends he doesn’t see.

It’s early, so early that no one else is on the street so they have their pick of cars in nearby driveways. Steve moves quickly to break into a nearby sedan, SUVs run out of gas too quickly. He tries not to shove Christian in the car’s passenger seat too unkindly before running to get in the driver’s side, starting the car before Christian has even managed to put on his seat belt. They need to leave now.

Christian leans boneless back against his seat, his head turned to look at Steve as the vampire drives them out of town. But there’s something different in the sapphire blue gaze that has Steve taking a second look.

“They’re not jus’ huntin’ me,” Christian says quietly, his head lolling to the side on the headrest.

Steve turns his attention back to the road as he answers. “No,” he says simply, wondering about the point of the statement.

“I mean,” Christian continues, “that even after I’m gone, they’ll still hunt you.”

“Yes,” Steve says solemnly. “Even if I had left you at your home to fend for yourself, my disrespect of a master vampire requires punishment.”

“You can drop me off in some random town, some other state, where no one knows me. You’d be faster by yourself,” Christian says.

Steve feels the urge to laugh, but manages to keep it to only mild sarcasm as he answers, “You would not last long on your own. David knows your smell, the sound of your heartbeat, and so do the others. I could run but it would be leaving you to certain death.”

Christian is silent for a moment at his answer. “So you’re protectin’ me by stayin’?”

“I warned you,” Steve says softly. “We will have to move frequently.”

“But it’s not jus’ me whose life’s changed,” Christian answers just as softly and Steve can’t determine what emotions were in that statement.

“No,” Steve says honestly. “I made my choice.”

Christian is silent again, long enough that the next time Steve looks over Christian is falling asleep sitting upright.

“Lay your seat back,” Steve suggests gently.

Christian wakes up enough to follow the suggestion before falling back to sleep.

The car ride is a long one, filled mostly with soft music or just the quiet sounds of Christian’s sleeping breath. At one point, Steve begins to sing to himself until he sees that Christian’s blue eyes are open a slit, watching him. They steal a different car at some point which makes Christian pout for a while. Christian eats a third of another can of soup, and they stop at several rest stops and a Taco Bell which Christian eats at an outside picnic bench in the middle of the night. After that, Christian curls up in the back seat as Steve continues to drive.

After ten hours total, they pull into a small isolated house near the Mexican border in Elfrida, Arizona. Stronger, Christian manages to get out of the car himself, stretching a little as he takes in the desert scenery and the large ranch-style house. Steve grabs the bag and then grabs Christian’s arm, leading the way to the front door.

“This’s yer house?” Christian asks as they enter.

“Yes,” Steve answers simply. “We will not be able to stay long. I’ll have to find us somewhere I’ve never bought property before.”  
Christian nods, distracted as he takes in the expansive living room, comfortable couches and even a tv.

“Are you hungry?” Steve asks knowing that the sun is soon to be up again.

“Will I hafta live like you? Bein’ awake at night I mean,” Christian asks instead of answering.

Steve frowns as he considers it. “It would be safer if you don’t leave the house alone during the day.”

Christian purses full lips then, considering. “So I guess I’ll be lookin’ for a bartending gig or somethin’.”

Steve hates to continue to stifle Christian but he needs Christian to understand the danger. “It may be a while before we can settle down enough for that.”

Christian nods, the reality of the situation seems to have sunk in, and Steve hates that Christian seems subdued with that knowledge. But Christian accepts it.

“Ok,” Christian says with a forced casualness, and then he takes a seat on the couch, stretching out. “Yeah, I guess I’ll open another can.”

Steve does it for him, taking the can into the kitchen and putting it in an actual bowl but still not bothering to heat it up. He grabs a glass of water as well. Christian is already eating the jerky he bought at a gas station earlier.

“So we’re not gonna be here long enough fer y’ta tell me about this place?” Christian asks in between bites.

“No. But there isn’t much here. This is a place to be alone,” Steve answers, feeling suddenly exposed himself with Christian in his home, going through his things as it were. It will not just be a challenge for Christian for them to be together all the time.

“It’s beautiful,” Christian says, softly. But he seems afraid to let the serious tone linger. “I can’t wait to take a shower.”

“Are you certain you’re healed enough?” Steve asks in concern.

The comment has Christian pausing with his mouth open, seeming confused about how to take the comment. Finally, he closes his mouth and looks at his lap before answering. “I feel much better. Thank you.”

Christian seems supremely awkward now, and this time Steve thinks that he understands that it is difficult for such a strong person to be so in debt. Steve knows that he needs to break the seriousness this time.

“The tv gets cable if you can’t sleep through the day yet,” Steve says, and shows Christian where he keeps movies and books. Christian is finished eating by that time, still not able to eat the whole can.

“Would you like me to show you your room?” Steve asks then.

“My room?” Christian asks suspiciously.

“Of course, there are plenty of rooms here,” Steve explains. But then he goes further in a gentle tone, “Remember I don’t expect anything, but I hope for companionship.”

Christian hesitates before he nods. Steve brings the bag with him as he leads Christian inside the room, placing the bag on the bed. “There are toiletries in the bathroom already,” Steve says.

He doesn’t want to leave. He wants to stay and take care of Christian, wants to just sleep beside Christian again, enveloped by Christian’s smell. Even if that’s the only physical intimacy they ever have, it would be enough.

But after telling Christian he wouldn’t ask for anything, he knows he has to leave no matter how he worries for Christian. He slowly backs up to the door, saying goodnight before leaving and going immediately to his own room. He’ll take a shower and put on his own clothes, and maybe he’ll be able to sleep without Christian’s smell all over him.  
***

Steve wakes the next evening and his thoughts are full of Christian from the first second his eyes open, as he washes his face and brushes his teeth in the bathroom, gets dressed in a comfortable pair of loose jeans and a thin t-shirt with a deep vneck that show his chest and the turquoise necklaces he’s collected in the Southwest for years.

He wonders what Christian is doing, wonders if the man has had any problems taking care of himself so soon. It’s doubtful that Christian could stand long enough to take a real shower, but he knows that Christian needed his space and more than that, his pride and self-reliance.

As he puts on his own clothes, he thinks about Christian’s rather shapeless clothes. He wonders if it has anything to do with what Christian said about his relationship with David, that Christian loved David, and obviously had sex with David, despite that David would never love him back. He wonders if Christian is afraid of the intimacy of a partner who actually cares for him.

Steve realizes belatedly that he’s just dawdling in front of the mirror and he forces himself to leave his bedroom. Christian’s door is closed, but he can hear the sound of the tv on in the living room. Then he turns the corner and he can see Christian, stretched out sideways on the couch, lounging in jeans and bare feet, tshirt and flannel over-shirt.

He’s taking in the glass of water and open can of soup on the coffee table when he realizes that Christian is moving, sitting up as he’s a child caught with his feet on the furniture. Steve opens his mouth to tell the man to make himself at home, but then Christian scoots over to one side a little and gestures that Steve can sit in the now free space.

Intrigued, Steve takes the invitation, stretching out in the seat easily and stretching out the arm nearest Christian over the back of the couch so he can easily look at the man beside him. He watches as Christian cards his fingers through long clean brown hair, straighter now in the arid climate. It’s a nervous calculated move as Christian turns toward Steve as well.

“Y’really watch tv?” Christian asks, his tone slightly teasing, slightly flirty.

Steve smiles back. “Why wouldn’t I?” he teases the human. “Because I’m a vampire.”

Christian looks down at his lap, seemingly unsure how to react, how to continue teasing when the word vampire must conjure all sorts of unpleasant images. And yet, Steve can smell lust as well as fear suddenly in the air.

Steve takes pity on the man and changes the subject. “I like to be around humans, watch humans. I like places like LA and Vegas, Hawaii. But when I’m here, I sometimes watch tv or a movie. I read a lot, but mostly I like to be outside, just be alone, or sometimes play the guitar.”

“Y’ play?” Christian immediately asks.

Steve’s smile gets softer hearing the immediately passion in the man’s voice. “Yes, the guitar, mandolin, and piano actually. I like to write songs as well.”

“I’d love t’ hear you,” Christian says, and his voice turning softer as well as his body opening more to Steve.

When Christian runs his hand up Steve’s jean-clad thigh though, Steve is actually surprised. After what Christian has been through, he never thought Christian would even think of him like that. Unless…

“Christian, you don’t need to do this. You don’t need to do anything for me…” Steve trails off when Christian doesn’t take his hand back but instead leans closer, his breath fanning out over Steve’s cool neck.

“Tha’ night, I can’t stop thinkin’ abou’it, how it felt, the perfect combination of pain and pleasure,” Christian’s continues in a breathy voice. Soft plump lips and a day’s worth of stubble tease over Steve’s sensitive skin, distracting him from further dissent. “Fuck, can’t stop thinkin’ about seein’ what y’ look like under these clothes,” Christian whispers as his hand slides up under Steve’s t-shirt.

Steve’s sucks in an unnecessary breath, caught off guard by the idea that Christian might actually want him. It’s a heady thought as Christian’s scent, Christian’s lust fills his nose and he sucks it into his lungs. He lets Christian’s hand caress his belly, his chest, a rough finger swiping experimentally over a tight nipple.

Steve sits up immediately, pulling off his shirt as Christian shifts to give him room. But Steve doesn’t let the man resettle in his side. Instead he grabs at Christian, pulling the over-shirt down and off the man’s arms. Understanding, Christian helps pull the cuffs off his wrists and then grabs at the back of the shirt even as Steve’s fingers are teasing the hem.

But Christian’s hands pause in front of his chest, holding the bunched up shirt as if suddenly unsure about being naked again. The sudden submissiveness has Steve surging forward, pushing Christian flat onto the couch. Steve holds his body just above Christian’s, leaning on Christian’s hands now above the man’s head. He’s not surprised now when he smells that combination of lust and fear at his aggression.

Wide eyes stare up at him, blown pupil making the man’s eyes appear a darker stormier blue. Slowly, his rolls his hips, the thick material of two pairs of jeans restrictive but creating a wonderful friction. Christian’s plump mouth opens on a surprised sound, hanging open as he gasps in air like he can’t get enough, enough air, enough friction.

Christian arches beneath him, trying to get closer to Steve, trying to press their bare chests together, and Steve can’t resist lowering his body, crushing Christian into the couch with his weight, can’t resist leaning down to cover those wet open lips with his own.

Steve can feel Christian’s groan of satisfaction at the kiss all the way through his chest, vibrating through his bones. He sucks first at a  
plush lower lip before he delves his tongue inside the warm cavern, seeking Christian’s unique taste, the way Christian somehow reminds him of home.

He touches his tongue to Christian’s teasingly before pulling back, pulling his body back too as he sits on his knees. He’s got one strong arm wrapped around Christian’s waist and Steve pulls Christian’s still jean-class crotch against his own, rolling his hips harder. Christian gets into it, thrusting his crotch as much as he can still lying down with his hips in the air.

“Unhhh…” Christian moans and it’s the sound Steve’s been waiting for, waiting for Christian to let loose, to give into him willingly.

As a reward, Steve leans down again, his mouth now on a tan muscular chest. He mouths along the taut sweaty skin until he reaches the tight protruding bud of a nipple and he sucks there, hard and harder as Christian presses up into his face. Then he switches to the other side.  
He’s still pulling Christian’s hips into his belly as he kisses down as far as he can reach before he grabs Christian and pulls the man up so he’s practically sitting in Steve’s lap. Christian’s head is thrown back as he writhes shamelessly against Steve’s bare skin, seeming desperate to feel Steve.

Steve’s hands sweep over Christian’s back and then he sees Christian tilt his exposed neck to the side, an obvious invitation to a vampire.

“No,” Steve whispers, his voice harsh with his own rampant desires. “You’re still weak.”

“I’m fine,” Christian insists from his submissive position. “Y’can bite me…” he entices.

Steve can’t control the possessiveness that has him grabbing Christian’s mane of long dark hair, pulling Christian’s head back to expose the man’s vulnerability more. “I said no,” Steve whispers firmly.

But then his voice and his demeanor softens as his other hand trails around the waist of Christian’s jeans to tease at the button in the front. “Besides,” Steve teases. “I want to take my time with you. You’re more than just blood,” Steve says as his hand slips in the front of the loose jeans, fingers teasing over the cotton outline of Christian’s fat dick.

Christian stops breathing as Steve plays, wrapping his hand around Christian’s length as much as possible through the man’s underwear. But then he’s grabbing the open sides of the man’s pants as he drags him up from the couch.

“Take them off,” Steve orders. It takes but a moment for Christian to wiggle out of the fabric.

Then Steve’s standing himself, pushing the man back onto the couch. “Get on your knees,” Steve says as he shucks his own pants.

Christian doesn’t comply, but Steve can’t fault him when the man is occupied staring at the skin Steve is revealing. Christian moves, an aborted attempt to move off the couch when Steve catches him, pressing him onto the couch on his knees, hands on the armrest. Steve sucks on the lobe of Christian’s ear, listening to the man’s panting, moaning himself when his cock slips in the crevice between Christian’s round buttocks.

“Lube,” Christian pants, “in m’ pants pocket.”

Surprised, Steve stops rutting into the man’s backside and grabs at the man’s jeans. Sure enough there is a small tube of lube in the front right-hand pocket.

“Where…?” Steve trails off in his question.

But Christian answers anyway. “I brought it…from my house,” he gasps.

The idea that Christian wanted him even then, moments after escaping certain death at David’s hands has Steve’s own hands shaking. Still, he has the bottle open and lube all over his fingers before a human would have and Christian is surprised at the first touch.

Christian’s tight at the first finger and that tells Steve more than anything that despite all the man’s enthusiasm he’s still been shaken by his recent experiences. Reminded of Christian’s fragility, Steve takes his time coaxing the man open, until he’s got two fingers inside and Christian’ pressing back enthusiastically, moaning at every swipe of pressure on his prostate.

“Guess we don’need a condom,” Christian mumbles nervously as Steve lines his cock up with Christian’s tiny slick entrance.

Christian’s head jerks back, dark hair cascading over his back as Steve presses inside. “I can’t catch anything or transmit anything,” Steve explains, his voice barely changed by his exertion.

Steve drapes himself over Christian’s back then, his hands covering Christian’s on the couch as he starts to thrust. He can feel the sweat slicking the man’s back, the hair caught between them, hear Christian’s thundering heartbeat and he starts speeding up to match the wild rhythm.

He has to kneel up then to thrust faster, grabbing Christian’s hips tight, the groove of the bone a perfect fit for his hands as he pulls Christian back harder and harder. But Christian isn’t passive as he starts rocking back into Steve, tilting his hips up back with each thrust to get Steve’s cock in deeper. Christian’s head drops forward to hang between his muscular shoulders.

His hand slips over the curve of Christian’s hip to reach the hot length of Christian’s cock, now drooling cum down the shaft. Steve spreads the fluid, squeezing the head before he starts twisting his fist up and down in time with their rocking. He can feel that Christian is close, can feel the swell of Christian’s cock, hear the hitch in Christian’s breath, sense the frenzy of Christian’s movements.

Steve lets go of Christian’s cock to grab at the man’s hair again, pulling Christian’s weight up from the armrest back onto Steve’s thighs. It’s harder to thrust now, Christian’s uncoordinated, his muscles exhausted, but Steve is so deep in Christian now he feels almost a part of the man, like his dick is being squeezed so tight he won’t be able to get it back.

Christian comes first, wet heat in Steve’s fist, spurting out onto the couch cushions, but Steve is right behind, pressing up and up and up into Christian’s body until it feels like his own heart might start beating again.

He’s still pressing up into Christian when he feels the man’s head fall back on his shoulder, his body a beautiful arch that Steve’s hands immediately skim over. Christian shivers in his arms as Steve begins to nibble blunt human teeth over the man’s shoulder.

Christian’s hands are on Steve’s bare thighs, kneading the muscle there in satisfaction, the man practically purring, a low heartfelt sound. Steve wraps both arms around Christian’s chest and gently maneuvers the man to lie down on his front as Steve gets off the couch to stand.  
“Hey, where’re y’ goin’?” Christian slurs, one arm stretching out as if to catch the vampire.

Steve’s smile is as satisfied as Christian’s when he answers. “As I recall, that’s the last can of food you have. We need supplies and then we need to leave here.”

He still takes the time to catch Christian’s beseeching hand and he leans down to kiss it, strands escaping his ponytail. Christian seems surprised by the caring gesture.

Christian’s expression is serious, though, as Steve steps back.

“Have you eaten?” Christian asks.

“I had some blood the night we left Jeff’s nest. I don’t need it yet, but yes, I intend to feed while out,” Steve explains straightforward.  
Christian’s forehead furrows as he frowns, pushing himself up a little. “How d’…who do you…?”

“Shhh,” Steve interrupts. “I will not kill anyone tonight, you need not worry about it. We will discuss it another time.”

Christian settles back on the couch, his exhaustion clearly overwhelming him.

“I will be back in a couple hours,” Steve says as he redresses, wiping off any remaining cum with Christian’s shirt.

“Hey,” Christian objects, halfheartedly.

“Get some sleep,” Steve orders but he’s smiling.

He watches for a moment longer as Christian’s eyes close, watches the rise and fall of his back, his eyes trailing down to the curve of Christian’s ass.

He forces himself to turn away, to get going. But before he leaves, he takes an antique dagger that was being displayed on the wall. He can’t be too careful now that he has so much to lose.  
***

Steve knows something is wrong as soon as he steps out of the car. He doesn’t even take the groceries he bought inside because it doesn’t seem right, it doesn’t seem like home. If he had a heartbeat it’d be pounding now, anxiety stuffing his throat as he thinks about losing Christian so soon.

He moves quick and light across the lawn. The lights are on inside just as when he left and in the light he can see the vague shadow of a person moving in the hedges near the house. No, not a person, a vampire who’s moving too fast for a human. But Steve is faster.

The vampire is moving away from him, trying to hide in the bushes around the house, trying to escape. All Steve can see is red, a bloody tint to the darkness around them. He darts forward before he can even think past putting an end to this threat. All he can think about is the danger to Christian and his anger that this vampire would take the human away from him.

Steve’s faster, stronger, older, and he’s got his hand fisted in that spiked hair before the vampire has had time to make a sound, viciously yanking the vampire’s head back with a strong arm. He’s only vaguely aware that he’s looking down into the face of the young vampire from the elevator.

Then he drives the dagger through the vampire’s neck. There’s no arterial spray of blood, only the ooze of it down the vampire’s own body as Steve pulls the knife out the back, slashing through skin and bone to leave Steve holding the head as the body drops to the ground. Steve drops it, the head bouncing in the dirt before it disintegrates as if it took a moment for the vampire to realize that he was dead.

But Steve’s already striding away. He can hear someone going out the back door and he speeds up, the front door slamming back against the wall as he goes inside. He heads for the back, looking around as he goes through the house. Christian isn’t on the couch anymore though the tv is still on, a white noise in the background of his mind as he begins to worry, where is Christian?

He only peeks through the door of the kitchen but what he sees stops him in his tracks. There Christian is, lying flat out on the tiled floor, his chest and feet still bare but he put back on the jeans.

Steve can’t seem to make his feet go faster as he walks over to Christian taking in the sight. The wound on his neck is torn open again but there’s no blood on his skin or on the floor. Christian is white, completely white, even his lips that are parted show no trace of blood or life. But his eyes are closed.

The dagger hits the floor, blood splattering on the clean floor as he drops heavily to his knees. Steve’s ripping open his own wrist just as viciously as Christian’s neck was ripped open, the blood pouring out into Christian’s mouth. He doesn’t know what he’s trying to do, even vampire blood won’t re-animate a corpse and Christian looks dead, not dying. There’s no hope, but Steve can’t accept it, can’t accept that there isn’t anything he can do.

The threat of tears in his eyes catches him off guard and he bites his bottom lip trying to hold off his emotions for another second, another minute, forever. His wrist has mostly healed as he draws his arm back, a few trails of blood now on Christian’s white face. It’s over.

Then Christian’s eyes open, an unnatural vivid blue in his white face.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Pray To God This Breath Will Last](https://archiveofourown.org/works/723721) by [Denig37](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Denig37/pseuds/Denig37)




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